Clockwork Knight
by Found Footage
Summary: She awoke with no memory of who she was. Starting a new life for herself, she soon finds herself in the clutches of Axel Mortmain, who wants nothing more than to get his revenge against the Shadowhunters of the London Institute. SI story; OC/Will and JC/TG. Follows general plot of Clockwork Princess, but slight AU. Sporadic updates ahead...
1. Chapter 1

I opened my eyes against the blaring sunlight. Cold cobblestones pressed up against my face as I struggled to remember where I was. The hum of human interactions greeted my ears, but I recognized nothing. I pushed myself to my feet and wobbled a bit. The wind tore through my tattered garments and made me shiver. My hands went around my arms in an attempt to bring warmth back into my body. No such luck. I wondered if I was attacked by robbers or criminals to look like this, but I was left with deafening silence. I remembered a few things, like my first name. Natalie. I had a little sister called Emily. I had many friends back in… Where did I live? I glanced around as questions started writing themselves in my subconscious. Where was I? How did I get here?

I looked up the street and saw a sign that read _Meadow Inn._ My thoughts stopped for a moment as my feet started moving in that direction. As opposed to before, the only thought on repeat was the search for warmth. My fingers pulsed bright red in the cold winter morning. Wait, how did I know it was winter? I shook my head as if to dislodge any more bits of information, but nothing came forward.

I reached a tentative hand out to open the door to the inn, but stopped because I realized that, though I was wearing clothes, I didn't have a purse or money on my person. How was I to pay for accommodations or food here? Maybe I could ask for a job. I wondered how much help they'd need from a girl on the brink of death who didn't even know where she was. As I stood there contemplating my decision, a gust of icy wind blew through me, deciding my next course of action right there. I opened the door to the inn and stepped in.

It was very quiet; the only sound coming from the crackling of the fire burning beside a couch. My body felt on fire from the intense change in temperature as I stumbled forward. I couldn't see anyone in sight, but for the moment I didn't care. My legs were getting weaker and weaker as I tried to make it to the couch before I would inevitably collapse from exhaustion. I didn't make it to my destination, however, before I could feel the fast approach of the darkness overcoming my vision. My knees buckled under my weight as I fell forwards into awaiting arms.

The first thing I saw as I regained consciousness was the wood panels lining the ceiling. A pillow rested under my head and a blanket was drawn up to my chin. I slowly sat up to the complaints of my pounding head, but a hand pushed me back down. The hand belonged to a young woman sitting at my side. She looked worn, but smiled as my eyes met hers.

"Don't sit up quite yet. You'll feel even worse if the headache hasn't gone yet." Her voice was kind and gentle, not at all like the ferocity of the chilling winds that greeted me not more than ten minutes ago.

"W-Why…" I tried to say, but my voice was rough and barely escaped my throat louder than a whisper.

"Why am I helping you?" she asked. I nodded. "Because it looks like you need it. I don't turn away people who need my help."

She pushed herself up to her feet and hobbled off to the dining area. I said nothing during all of this because I was shocked to see the bulge protruding from her abdomen. She's a mother to be, I thought. No wonder she's helping me.

When she returned, she was laden down with a tray of food. She helped me into a sitting position to allow me to drink the broth she prepared. Taking the spoon from me, she helped guide spoonful after spoonful of hot chicken broth into me. The heat warmed my body and reduced the throbbing in my head to a mere ache.

"Do you have anywhere to go?" she asked as I finished picking off parts of a roll she gave me.

"No," I said. My voice returned to me sounding healthy and a little light. "I don't wish to be a burden, but could I stay here?" I stopped short, but continued after seeing her confused face. "I can work and help around here if you need. I can also help manage this place once you have your baby. Please? I'm a very hard worker and you don't have to pay me-" I wanted to say more, but I was silenced by her laugh.

She continued laughing for a few minutes, but she smiled even more when she stopped. "I think I'll take you up on that deal. My last serving girl quit last week and it's been hard managing everything in my condition. My name is Mrs. Hughes, but most people around here call me Gracia."

And that is how I ended up tending to the guests at _Meadow Inn._ During my stay there, I realized I was quite gifted at remembering the guest's names and room numbers. My cooking skills were a little lacking, but I let Gracia tend to that. Working the desk and dining room left little time for cooking lessons, which Gracia was pleased to offer, but I politely declined.

It was during my second day there that I picked up a discarded newspaper off the floor. I peaked at the front page for any news concerning my location and time. I didn't confide my secret with Gracia because I didn't want to drag her into any of my messes. The newspaper indicated that I was in London during the early winter months of 1878. At the mention of London, a warm feeling in my stomach told me I had been born in London… but I still couldn't remember the small details about my past. On cold nights, I would suddenly think about my little sister sitting in front of a blaring fire. I couldn't see her face, but her silhouette was burned into my eyes. That had been enough to satisfy my curiosity for a few weeks.

It didn't, however, remain forever quenched. A large boat from America docked a few miles from town and hundreds of visitors from America checked into the Inns near the docks. I remember one young man who looked a few years older than me who seemed rather homesick. I decided to speak to him in hopes of brightening up his mood.

"Good evening," I said to him one night as he sat alone in the dining room.

He smiled at my greeting, but his eyes remained heavy. "Hello," he returned. He ordered a single bowl of soup and when I brought it out for him, he was gazing at a photograph in his hands.

Setting the steaming bowl beside him, I asked, "Do you miss her?" He started at the noise, having not seen me approach him, and looked at me with wide eyes.

"Pardon?" he asked.

I pointed to the girl smiling in the picture. "Do you miss her?" I repeated.

He took a moment before answering, which seemed a little odd at first. "I'm not quite sure," he replied truthfully. I listened on, hoping he would continue, but that was apparently all he was willing to share.

"Sometimes it's okay to feel like you're better off on your own," I started saying. "But you have to be prepared for a life of solitude." I left him to his dinner and headed back to the kitchen to refill the water pitcher.

Over the next few days I saw him at breakfast and dinner. He never showed me the picture again, but he did open up to me and eventually started smiling. He spoke to me of the work he sought down in the warehouses and I pointed out the best spots to find cheap labor. When you work at a bar, I told him, you overhear things from the workmen stopping for a bite to eat. I found out his name was Nathaniel Gray, a young man of 19 who had a younger sister named Tessa in New York. I asked him what America was like, and he replied that it was nothing compared to London. I didn't believe him, but never pressed for more.

Then I noticed the drunken stupors and the late night returns. I asked him if he had found more work, but he replied, "I have everything under control." It was not my place to scold him or tell him off, so I kept my mouth shut, even when he almost collapsed in the front entryway smelling of smoke and liquor. I laid him out on the couch and draped a wet cloth over his burning forehead. In his sleep, he reached out and gently stroked my hair and whispering, "Tessie."

The next morning, I had one of the guests help me drag Nate up to his room since I couldn't carry his weight by myself. I pulled off his work-boots and tucked the blankets around his sweaty body. He didn't stir from his dreams. I then left and helped Gracia clean up the kitchen and prepare for the day's chores. Nate didn't reappear until just after closing time around 10 at night. I was sweeping the dirt and straw off the wooden floors while Gracia stacked chairs on the tops of tables. This was our normal routine and I almost missed Nate's figure standing silently at the foot of the stairs.

"Are you feeling better Mr. Gray?" I asked him. The shadows playing off the candlelight danced across his face, so I couldn't see into his eyes.

"Yes, though I do apologize for my condition. I hope I wasn't too much of a burden." His voice sounded sober and I relaxed my tense shoulders. Handling drunk or even hung-over men could be such a pain.

"Not at all," Gracia said sweetly.

"Can I ask a favor from you?" he asked, looking at me.

Startled, I said, "What kind of favor?"

"My new boss was looking for a secretary at his company and I recommended you to him. He would like to meet with you tomorrow to discuss a job." Nate's voice was quick and stern, very different from the easy-going tone I had become so accustomed to.

There was silence as the news sunk in. I looked to Gracia, whose stomach had swollen two times the size since I started working here a few months ago. I couldn't leave her when she was so close to her due date. I looked back to Nate with sad eyes and he seemed to understand. He strode from the stairs in quick movements and went to Gracia. Her face mirrored my confused thoughts and her expression changed once more to one of surprise in an instant. It was then that I saw the knife protruding from her swollen belly. Blood oozed from the wound as Nate yanked the weapon out. I stood frozen to the floor, the shock freezing time for a second. Gracia looked down at her stomach and uttered one word before falling to the floor: "Noah?"

Nate looked over her dying body with an air of disgust, but I could see his hands shaking. He then turned his attention to me, freeing me of the ice holding me in place. I screamed Gracia's name and ran to her even though Nate blocked my view.

His arm slammed into my chest, sending me reeling backwards as the air left my lungs. I crashed to the floor in a heap. My chest burned from where he touched me and I felt his presence as he moved towards my helpless body.

"My boss really wants to meet you. He told me to use whatever force necessary to get you to come with me," he snarled.

I wanted to scream at him, but the air would not leave my lips. I was gasping then, hacking for the pain to leave my body. Nate thrust out a hand and yanked my hair, pulling me along with it. My hands flew up to his arms and I tried to pry myself from his fingers, but I wasn't strong enough. He dragged me away from Gracia's now dead body and towards the entrance. The door swung open to reveal two men in dark coats and top hats. They made no sound as they pulled me away from Nate's grasp only to wrap me in a tighter embrace.

Outside, the chilly air bit against my exposed skin and the arms trapping me felt as cold as ice. My eyes flicked to my captor's faces, but there was no face. Instead, a rough canvas was pulled over their heads and hid any facial features. A short man waited by a carriage drawn up by the inn. His clothes looked expensive and his jewel cane confirmed he was a nobleman. I could only assume he was the one Nate had referred to. His two goons threw me into the carriage and hopped in after me. They forced me against the sides and tied my hands behind my back with rough fishing twine that cut into my skin, possibly drawing blood. I bit back my cries, but I could do nothing to stop the tears leaking out of the corners of my eyes. My one and only friend was dead and her baby was robbed of his chance at life. Just the other day she'd confided in me she believed her baby to be a boy and she'd name him Noah after her late father. At least she didn't suffer long, I thought.

Nate climbed in after his boss and shut the door behind him. I heard the cracking of a whip as the room jolted into motion. The man smelled of smoke and grease which stung the inside of my mouth. I looked down at his polished shoes rather than stare into the face of my kidnapper.

"She didn't have to die, you know," the man said. His voice was just as foul as his odor. I flinched nonetheless at his words. "If you'd have just come with Mr. Gray, nobody would be in the positions they are now. But now that we're all together, I think I should explain my actions and need of you."

He leaned forward and thrust a finger under my chin. For a moment, I fought against his actions, but a metal hand wrapped around the back of my head and forced me to look up. When I did, I was greeted with the sight of a man who held a dark secret. His gray eyes were endless, but filled with hate and greed. I instantly despised the way he looked.

"My name is Axel Mortmain and you, my dear, will be the key to my success. I wish to create a world where people don't abuse the power they are given or refuse to help the weak protect themselves. Have you ever heard of Shadowhunters?"

This man surprised me. One moment he sounded cruel and despicable, the next he spoke of ridding the world of evil. And this word, shadowhunters, sounded eerily familiar, but my mind once again drew a blank. Out of curiosity, I decided to go along with his game.

"No." My voice was soft and weak compared to his. I hated that.

He smiled at my participation and continued with his lecture. "Shadowhunters are beings who are half angel and half mundane. They believe they are tasked at protecting the mundane people, that is to say, humans, from creatures of the Downworld. This includes many forms of vampires, warlocks, werewolves, and fairies. When I was a boy, they killed my family for no reason. I need your help to make them pay for what they've done." He held out his other arm to Nate, who pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. Mortmain held up the paper for me to see. "And you will start by bringing me _her_."

The paper turned out to be a photo, the exact same photo I had seen Nate gazing at a few weeks ago. It was of his smiling sister, Tessa, who waited for him in New York. She looked so innocent and happy… I didn't know why she had anything to do with these Shadowhunters. She didn't need to be brought into this. I wouldn't do it. I wouldn't directly harm a younger sister. "No," I said.

Silence filled the air of the carriage. Mortmain's grasp of my face tightened as he started to lose his patience. "You are not in the position to be refusing to cooperate with me, girl. You will bring me Ms. Gray or you will die."

I shook my head. "I won't hurt her," I snarled, finally finding my courage.

Cold metal hands went around my neck, cutting off air to my lungs. I struggled against the bonds holding my hands behind my back, but the wire only dug deeper into my flesh. I gasped and choked for any wisp of air, but nothing came forward. Mortmain sat back in his seat as blackness started swimming in my vision.

The last thing I heard before I passed out was, "Bring me the silver powder when we reach the mansion. We'll find a way to get her to break."

I awoke chained to a bed situated in a small cell. My wrists were red and raw after rubbing on the fishing wire, but were otherwise healing fine. I brought my hands to my neck and could feel bruises starting to form. I winced at the pain, but sat back on the bed feeling defeated. I had failed Gracia by allowing her and her unborn baby to die. Hadn't I said I'd help her however she needed it? And yet in her dying moments, I hadn't been there to comfort her, to ease her worries. I felt utterly useless.

The door to my cell creaked open, revealing a tall figure dressed in black. Because the lighting was poor, I failed to see if this figure was Mortmain or Nate. However, as it approached, I saw that it was neither. It was a man with dark skin and horns protruding from the center of his forehead. It startled me at first, but then I thought back to Mortmain's description of Shadowhunters and the beings from Downworld. Was this creature from their world?

As he inched closer and closer towards my bed, I pushed myself back against the headboard, trying but failing to escape his line of sight. When he saw my pitiful attempts of eluding him, he chuckled under his breath.

"I can assure you that neither you nor I will be leaving this cell for quite some time, so I'd suggest we'd get down to business." In the blink of an eye, he was sitting on top of my chest, my head slammed against the headboard and mattress. I did not have time to scream before his hand shoved powder down my throat.

Fire exploded throughout my body as I coughed, unable to breathe around the powder. I screamed, even thrashed around to try to get him off me, but my attempt was futile. My eyes rolled around in their sockets so I couldn't see the face of the demon holding me down. Then my body started convulsing and I was thrown against the wire holding me down. The pain from the cuts on my wrists and feet paled in comparison to the poison surging through my body. Soon, I could feel blood dripping from my mouth as the liquid ran down my throat. As I spit it from my body, I realized the man had moved to the corner of my cell, gleefully watching my struggle.

 _I'm dying,_ I thought. He laughed.

"The powder has the ability to simulate death, but I assure you you won't die just yet." He moved back to my bed, but I hardly felt the tips of his fingers trace patterns over my burning skin. He grabbed my hair and forced me to look into his eyes. "I can't have you die when we've only just begun."

They say that the sinners cast into Hell feel no sense of time. I must've been in Hell since the passage of time ceased to grace its presence in my cell. It could have been weeks, but it also could've been decades. At first, I would count the days based on the meals they brought to me: once per day at noon. But the meal was always followed by a dose of the silver powder, my medicine, they called it. The only upside was they gave it to me in smaller doses than that first day. That was the worst day. After a few visits, they cut the fishing wire from my wrists but the scars remained there, even after all this time. My body started getting thinner as time progressed, and the energy I carried with me started seeping from me. My hair formed streaks of white and silver while my vision became cloudy. Towards the end, I needed doses regularly, or else the pain erupted like the worst day. Mortmain didn't come back to visit and Nate was an irregular visitor. I couldn't stand to look at him though. I hated him for what he did. And he knew.

I started forgetting my life with Gracia, but the image of my sister seated in front of that fire burned into my eyes. She looked so sad sitting there, so completely alone. If only I could move, I could go to her and comfort her. My little sister… Why couldn't I remember my life? What purpose did I-

The lock clicked on my cell and I opened my eyes. This was only habit, since the ability to see was taken from me many doses ago. I could only make out a figure standing before me, but the glint off his hands and the thing he held in his hands told me it was finally Mortmain.

He cleared his throat and said, "Do you know how long you've been here?" I just layed there, partly because I couldn't move my body but also because I didn't know the answer. "A good part of a year, yet you refused to acknowledge me or my power. The drug was supposed to manipulate you, but you've become a pest, one we can't afford keeping. So we're letting you go."

My head moved a fraction of an inch at his words. Letting me go? I've dreamed for something like this to happen, even pictured my reaction, but it never occurred to me that this dream could become reality. "I can go?" My voice was hoarse and small, just like when he brought me here.

"I've discovered a new purpose for you: a warning, of sorts, for my dear friends at the London Institute. Reed!" He called to Reed, who appeared behind him in a second. "Get her in the carriage." He then turned around and left my cell.

I looked up to Reed, who wore an indifferent expression as he grabbed my collar to lift me up. I winced at his rough touch, but the moment I was on my feet I could feel the blood block my airway. I doubled over, almost falling to the ground if it hadn't been for his arms, and spat blood on the stone floor. Reed waited a minute to let me catch my breath, but started dragging me away from my bed. I would've fought him, telling him I could walk on my own, but that would be a lie. I hadn't been able to walk in a long time.

I studied the hallways of the building, but found it hard to tell where I was because the halls all looked similar. It made me feel like I was trapped in a labyrinth. We arrived at the entrance to the building and Reed yanked the door open. Cool air met my body as the winter winds blew in from outside. I gasped because I hadn't felt the outside air in a long time. Though I was wearing tattered clothing and forming goose bumps from the air, I cherished this feeling of freedom.

This feeling didn't last long, though, as Reed threw me into the carriage before getting in as well. I stayed huddled on the floor, not sure whether or not he would let me sit on the seat next to him. We rode for ten minutes before he motioned for the carriage to stop. Glaring at me, he threw open the door and grabbed me by my hair. I cried out from the pain, but immediately stopped once I realized he was throwing me out. I landed hard on my outstretched arm and felt the twist of my bones, now brittle as sand. I screamed even more, but I was in the alley of an abandoned street. No one would come to my rescue.

"You," Reed called from the carriage. "If you want help, go to the abandoned church two streets down." He stretched out his arm to pull the door shut and said a few words I could barely hear: "Just imagine Mr. Carstairs surprise…" And then they were gone. I was, for the first time, alone.

 _Two… streets down,_ I thought as I stumbled forward. My entire left arm felt numb with pain and the ache in my throat made it hard to think, much less walk. But the details didn't matter because I was finally on my own again. However, whether that was good or not was still to be decided. I was glad to be freed from the dungeon, but without the doses of powder every day, I hardly stood a chance in the real world.

My legs burned as I managed to move my body through the alleys. The powder turned my muscles to jelly and ripped holes in my head. I didn't know who these people were, but Mortmain wanted to send them a threat by hurting me. My life seemed to be filled with ambiguity, a two-sided quality I couldn't seem to shake. Should I continue to the church, delivering myself in a way that would seal the fate of whomever is there? Or, should I succumb to my disease and die, saving the lives Mortmain hoped to ruin? Too many things flashed before my eyes and it hurt to much to do anything.

I no longer had the energy to keep walking. I could barely see anything past the film covering my eyes. I could tell there was some object to my left, so I slumped to the ground. Coughs ravaged through me and I could feel warm liquid dripping from my mouth. This was it. My life was ending. It was a considerably short life, most of which I couldn't remember. It was terribly unfair to end up like this.

Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this? Why… But that thought was never finished. I was already loosing too much blood and too much hope. When the darkness greeted me, I no longer had the strength to resist.


	2. Chapter 2

Will stormed down for breakfast the following morning, bags noticeable under his eyes. The previous night had Will frantically searching all of the London underground for any trace of _yin fen_. Everyone had told Will that it was all bought up weeks ago. Jem needed that drug, his life depended on it now more than ever. He hated Jem. He hated Tessa. Will sighed, knowing his anger wasn't caused by either of those people. He loved them more than anyone. Will despised Axel Mortmain with every burning fiber in his being.

Lost in thought, Will failed to notice the dining room was empty that morning. Sitting down at the table, Will looked around him for the first time to see the table empty of both plates and people. The clock chimed above the fireplace mantle. Will counted five tolls. It was only five o'clock in the morning. No wonder the dining room was empty.

Not wanting to wait around for Sophie or Bridget, he grabbed his coat in the entrance hall and stepped out into the morning air. He would probably head to a pub before he saw Jem. He was about to pull open the main gates when he saw a figure leaning against them. The sight of silver hair almost sent Will to his knees, fearing Jem had collapsed in a heap. His hands yanked the gate open and caught the body as it lost its support. Will breath caught when he saw it wasn't Jem, but a young woman no older than him. Will was relieved his _parabatai_ was safe, but this girl looked just like Jem. Her skin reminded him of the snow that fell this time of year back in Wales while her hair looked so silver it was translucent. This complexion did not normally occur.

"It's the drug," Will whispered. He wrinkled his nose when he came to this conclusion. Some worthless addict was stealing the life of his best friend and ruining the life of his greatest love. The sight of her made him sick.

A groan escaped the trapped lips of the girl as Will harshly dropped her on the ground. He felt no pity for her. But when he saw her face, his stomach dropped. Blood dripped down from the corners of her blue lips. Her eyes sunk back into her face, making her sharp cheekbones that much more bulging. Will managed to pull his eyes from her face and looked at her body. She was dressed in a tattered nightgown that was probably white once. Now, soot, mud, and blood combined to form a dark color. There was no jacket covering her bare arms, which were quickly turning almost as purple as her feet and hands. Whoever this girl was, she needed help.

Will didn't know what to do. It could have been a coincidence that she happened to stop in front of the Institute, or she could have the Sight. She wasn't a warlock or a faerie, or so Will could see, because she lacked the physical qualities of one. A vampire wouldn't be able to come onto hallowed grounds and a werewolf would have a pack to go to. If Will could guess, she was a mundie who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Coming to a decision, Will gathered the deathly girl into his arms and raced back to the Institute. He threw the door open as best as he could before shouting for Sophie.

I had come to peace with my demise, probably much sooner than I should've. I was ready to be free from my life. So it was a great surprise when I woke up to fire coursing through me. I screamed and thrashed around, but was held down by restraints. Did Mortmain change his mind? Was I back in that dungeon? Blood pooled in my throat and I tried to sit up before my body tensed with choking coughs. I couldn't breathe and I couldn't see. Perhaps I ended up in hell.

"Help her up!" a voice yelled. It sounded so distant and empty I hardly paid attention to it. My mind was trying to tell my lungs to breathe.

I felt the restraints loosen and immediately shot up from my horizontal position. Blood spilled from my mouth as I gasped for breath. The burning in my body did not die as I regained breathing, but the pain was tolerable compared to what I experienced with Mortmain. With the coughing somewhat finished, I tried to blink away the film that covered my eyes. I tried again, but nothing happened. I was surrounded by black darkness. A whimper escaped my lips as tears swam in my useless eyes. I closed them to stop the tears.

A tender hand touched my head, causing me to flinch away from the contact. "You're alright now, dear. I promise none of us will hurt you." The voice sounded so much like Gracia it hurt to hear. This woman's voice held the same motherly presence that made me feel at peace. But I knew Gracia was dead and I was soon following.

"W-where?" It was all I could muster to whisper that one word. My throat still throbbed with pain.

"If you're asking where you are, you're at the London Institute. My name is Charlotte Branwell-"

"Mortmain," I interrupted. "S-sent… me."

Different hands, rough hands, threw me back down. I guess I was lying on a bed because my head made contact with a soft pillow. An arm held my chest down and made it hard to breathe. I started panicking, waving my arms around to find the culprit. My left hand hit a hard chest. I used that as a guide as I started slamming my arms on this man's chest.

"Will!"

"Mortmain! She's with him, she's after Tessa!" A man's voice boomed from the space above me. He was the one holding me down.

"Look at her, Will. She's dying just like-"

"Don't remind me. I saw her there. I thought it was strange how she found the Institute. But she's in league with him. We should kill her now!" His arms moved up my chest and pressed down on my throat, cutting off whatever air I had access to.

Tears were actively flowing down my face now as I panted for air. "Please…" I whispered. I shook my head back and forth. I didn't want to die. I accepted my death before, but I had failed to stop the Institute from finding me. Now I needed to live, to explain to them my purpose. I wanted to tell Charlotte and Will everything, but all the air in my lungs faded into nothing.

"At her rate, she'll die soon, but I won't have you speeding up that process!" Charlotte shrieked.

I could feel Will hesitate in his actions as he listened to the words being directed towards him. I prayed that this hesitation meant I could live a little longer. When he pulled back, I thanked whatever God had sent Charlotte Branwell into this room.

"If anything happens to either of them because of her, I'm blaming you," Will whispered darkly. I didn't know which of us he was referring to, but at that moment, I had other things to worry about.

"Please," I whispered again. I felt Will's body leave mine, so I managed to sit up by myself. "I… won't hurt you." Despite Will's attempt to kill me, the pain in my throat was subsiding which made it easier to speak.

"I know you won't, dear. Will is just being paranoid. Can you tell me your name?"

"Natalie."

"A very pretty name. Do you have a last name?"

"No."

"Well, Natalie, I'm terribly sorry about our introduction, but we have had dealings with Mortmain in the past that haven't gone so well. Can you tell me why Mortmain sent you here?"

"He said… I would be a warning… to the people at the London Institute. He took me and killed my friend. He… wanted me to bring Tessa Gray to him. I refused and he gave me… this silver powder. It burned and… it hurt so much. I just wanted to die." My voice cracked at the end.

The room remained silent for a few moments. During that time, I felt very alone and exposed, cracked open for the world to see. It made me feel very uncomfortable. I heard someone shift to my right and another take a step forward.

"Charlotte, Tessa and I went around looking for it last night, but everyone said it was bought up weeks ago. He's been buying it so Jem will die."

More silence followed. Then Charlotte said, "The powder he gave you was a drug called _yin fen_. It turns your body silver and eventually kills you. I'm terribly sorry about what he's done to you, but if you were sent as a warning, it means he's using it all up. Do you think you can help us find him?"

She made it sound like I had an option then, that I could choose for myself. But after hearing Will's distressed voice, I knew that whatever option I thought I had was an illusion.

"I can tell you all I know," I said, nodding my head.

"Excellent. Will, if you could help her to the library, we'll be meeting there. Sophie, if you could please let everyone know." A shuffle of footsteps and the creak of a door told me Charlotte left the room. Another pair of steps, ones much lighter than Charlotte's, followed after her. There was another person in that room and I hadn't known. That must've been Sophie.

I felt Will's arms come around me again, and I stiffened at his touch. "I won't do anything to you," he promised.

I relaxed my shoulders and shook my head. "It's not you. I just can't see you. You startled me."

His arms dropped to his sides. "Can't see as in not at all?" I nodded. He paused for a moment, then said, "I'm going to pick you up and carry you to the library, alright?" Though it sounded like a question, I suspected Will was going to carry me whether I agreed to or not.

One arm wrapped around my back and the other scooped up my legs. He lifted me with ease off the bed, though I was not surprised seeing as how I weighed practically nothing. His arms were firm with layers of muscles, like his chest. I felt protected in his arms. It was strangely comforting.

It was a relatively short walk to the library, all the while I kept thinking how cold and echoey the halls were. It must've been a grand church to have ceilings this tall. Will kept a firm grip on my arm the whole way there, but when he stopped, he loosened his hold on me to rap his knuckles on the wooden door. A moment later, it swung open to reveal many voices talking in a panicked conversation. When Will crossed the threshold, all voices died down to silence. Will continued forward until he lowered me down into a cushioned sofa. My arms immediately felt around to give me a picture as to where I was. The sofa was soft and comfortable, and my fingers found a wooden table in front of me. Apparently this was where they held meetings.

"Everyone, this is Natalie. She'll be staying at the Institute and assisting us with our search for Mortmain." Charlotte said. The voices rose together like a crash as everyone started speaking at once.

"Charlotte I don't think-"

"-mundane-"

"-isn't wise to-"

"We'll manage without-"

"-could she possibly-"

"-Jem-"

A loud bang once again silenced everyone. I jumped a little in my seat, but a hand steadied me on my shoulder. It wasn't Will, so I shrank away from it. "I don't think having a dozen voices speaking at once is going to help anyone." This voice reminded me of Charlotte's. It was male, but very soft and… almost child-like.

"Thank you Henry. I understand everyone's concern about her, but she's already agreed to help. She's recently been in contact with Mortmain, so it's a fresh lead-"

"Fresh lead or not, how do we know Mortmain didn't want her to find us?" Someone practically snarled. "She could be a downworld or one of his clockwork monsters sent to let his personal army into the Institute."

"Gabriel I know you're new here, but do you really think so low of me as to doubt my judgement?" Charlotte asked. "Sophie and I have already confirmed she's human, shadowhunter or mundane."

At the word "shadowhunter" I stiffened in my chair. "Shadowhunters, he mentioned them. Are you shadowhunters?" I asked.

"Yes we are. The Institute is like a waystation for shadowhunters, a place where they can rest safely while they travel." Charlotte answered.

"So she's a mundane," another voice stated. "The question is, was she targeted specifically or picked out at random. I wouldn't put it past him to start abducting random girls for his own gain."

"If you have a question, you could just ask me, seeing as I was there," I almost growled. They may not have trusted me, but they could've at least treated me like I was in the room. I felt insulted and angry, two feelings I've had much experience with over the months being held prisoner. "Mortmain didn't find me, Nathaniel Gray did."

A sharp gasp came from my right. "Nate?" The voice, a girl's, sounded pained and familiar with him, like she'd known him. "But, he died. How…"

There was something familiar about her voice. A picture started forming in my mind of the photograph Nate carried with him. A young girl with brown hair waiting for him in New York. But Mortmain had wanted me to bring her to him, so she must've come to London looking for Nate. Could this be Tessa? I was almost positive she was. "Are you his sister?" I asked. I had no idea where she was seated, so I just looked in the direction I knew the table to be.

"She can't see you, Tessa," Will said.

"Can't see? Is she blind?" a different girl asked.

"Well, I used to be able to see. I remember meeting N- I mean, Mr. Gray at a Inn I worked at. He carried around a picture of his sister, Tessa, who he left in New York. I'm only asking because… But you said he died. How long?" I don't know why I was asking about Nate. He betrayed me, handed me over to his boss. I wondered if he ever felt anything as I was fed the drug.

"He died last month," Tessa answered.

"I'm sorry for your loss. Well, I want to be sorry, but he's the one who handed me over to Mortmain, so…" I trailed off.

"No, it's okay. Thank you, Natalie."

There was a moment of awkward silence before a voice asked, "Are you blind because of the drug?"

I shrugged. "When he first fed it to me, it burned like fire, but my eyesight remained the same. But for months, Mortmain had this… thing feed it to me every day. Eventually it got worse. However, Mortmain came to my cell and said I was free to go, that I had a new purpose. They threw me into a carriage and dropped me off a couple streets from here. I collapsed outside the Institute because I could no longer see anything. I'm sure it's related to the powder, but I'm no doctor."

I was getting more uncomfortable under the invisible eyes of everyone in the room. My hands started fidgeting, so I balled them into fists and tried to look relaxed. It was harder than it looked.

"Do you remember where he kept you?" Gabriel asked. I was glad his voice lost some of the venom it held before.

"He drugged me when he brought me in and I was half alive when he dragged me out. I remember it being a short carriage ride from here, but I don't know where… The part I stayed in was dark and damp, most likely a basement. I didn't see anyone for long stretches."

I felt bad for not being of use to them now. The only good I've done is confirm that Mortmain had been buying up all the powder. I frowned. Why did they need the powder? Will seemed angry when he relayed his story to Charlotte before.

"Pardon me for asking, but why would Mortmain buy all of the _yin fen_ to get back at you? Is someone here sick too?"

I wasn't expecting an answer right away from them since I knew it was a delicate topic. They didn't need to answer in the end because a few seconds later, I heard a door opening somewhere in front of me.

"There you all are, I was wondering why no one was in the dining room." It was a man's voice. He didn't sound serious like Will, but not too casual like Henry. I sighed, thinking about the number of people staying at the Institute.

"Jem, we were going to let you sleep a little longer," Charlotte said, though she sounded a little guarded.

"I'm alright now, so there's no need to worry-" he stopped short. "By the angel," he whispered.

Someone, I guessed Tessa, rose from her seat at the table and walked to Jem. I didn't hear any talking, so I assumed they were either looking at me or Jem. I wanted it to stop, for the talking to resume and for everyone to stop looking at me. I cleared my throat and said, "It's nice to meet you, though I can't see you. I'm Natalie. You're Jem, right?"

A couple footsteps and I heard, "Y-yes, that's right. It's a pleasure to meet you to, Natalie."

I could hear pain in his voice, but I assumed it was because I looked like hell. I mean, the clothes I wore were clean, very different from the tatters I came in with, but my body, on the other hand, was very disturbing and ugly. I'm sure everyone was looking at me with either revulsion or pity. And it sickened me. Since when had I become this fragile thing? I used to be of use, a person who liked to help out. But I was stuck in this useless body, having to rely on others to even move. That would be my first thing to change.

It struck me like a charging bull. My body bent forward with the force of the coughs bursting from my diaphragm. I could understand the coughing when I woke up, but this was uncalled for. Usually I would have these attacks if I tried moving a lot, but with Will's help, I haven't been doing much. I needed it. That drug was the only thing that calmed my fits down. I… needed… it.

Blood dripped from my lips as I slumped forward. Muscled arms pulled me from the chair and laid me on the floor. Pain flashed across my eyes and I moaned between the coughs.

"She needs the powder," Will roared. "We need Magnus."

"He doesn't have any Will," Tessa said frantically. "There's no more."

"Here," Jem's voice said above the others. His tone was sharp like a knife and cut through the sounds of my hacking. "It's the last."

"No, Jem. We'll find another way-"

"She's dying William. If I can help, I'll be willing to give it up." A body knelt besides Will and took my head into his hands. I felt a slender hand pour the powder into my mouth. Soon, the coughs subsided and I gasped for breath.

"Let's get her to the infirmary," Charlotte said. "She should stay in bed for the time being."

Strong arms lifted me off the floor and carried me out of that room and into the cool hallway. I was shuddering, but not because of the cold. I was crying because there was another one, just like me. Jem had the drug on him, meaning he was infected too. After living with it for months, I knew how bad it could get. I would never wish this pain on anyone.


	3. Chapter 3

I was brought into the infirmary and set down on one of the beds. The sheet material felt familiar as my limp body touched the fabric. This was the room I woke up in earlier today. It couldn't have been more than a half hour ago. I assumed it was Will who brought me here, but he didn't say anything after he dropped me off. The girl, Sophie, brought a wet towel to wipe the blood off my face. I didn't have the energy to thank her and instead fell asleep. I didn't want to drip into unconsciousness, but the drug always had a drowsying effect on me. I fell into a sightless dream where Nate was dragging a helpless Tessa to a laughing Mortmain. I could hear Will yelling, Charlotte screaming, and a hoard of unidentifiable voices in the background. I heard Jem start coughing, but eventually fall silent with death.

Because the dream mirrored reality, I wasn't sure if I had woken up or not. The voices had stopped, but the world remained black. My arms reached around and felt the sheets resting on top of me. I struggled to pull myself into a sitting position, but didn't feel fatigued or pained when I managed to do so.

"Are you feeling alright?" I started because the voice came from a spot at my bedside. "I'm sorry if I startled you. Will told me of your situation."

"I'm feeling fine. Is that you Jem?" I asked, a little groggy to identify the voice.

"Yes. I'm sorry about before in the library. You took me by surprise and it went downhill from there."

"I really appreciate your help. It was only that bad because I missed today's dose. But now there isn't any more left, is there. For both of us," I added at the end.

"I'm glad to help. You needed it more than I did," he said. There was a pregnant pause before he continued. "I feel partially responsible for your situation."

I frowned. "Why?" In truth, I'm not sure why Jem felt responsible for Mortmain's actions. Wasn't I meant to be a threat to the entire Institute? Why would Jem feel singled out?

"I need _yin fen_ to survive, just like you. I used to buy it from downworld opium dens, but Mortmain controls the supply now. I'm sure he did that because of me." Jem's voice became soft and heavy with guilt.

"Guilt does not suit you, Jem," I said. "What happened to me is done, so there is no use feeling guilty for something that happened months ago. I would very much like to get to know you better without the guilt laced into your voice."

Jem chuckled at my words. "Alright then. I look forward to getting to know you as well."

"That's better," I teased. This moment, sitting with Jem, felt completely wrong to me. It felt wrong because it was the kind of setting I had before Mortmain. I would be free to talk with people and live outside of a damp cell. It scared me how fast I was adjusting to my new home. Would I have to leave soon? Would Mortmain come for Tessa? Why would he even want Tessa? The questions kept building up with no form of release.

Jem and I conversed for a few minutes about little things, eager to change the subject we fell into. I learned about shadowhunters, their origins and job as supernatural policemen. I also learned about everyone staying at the Institute. Henry Branwell was an inventor and Charlotte's husband. Charlotte ran the Institute and was an important member of the London Enclave. Will and Jem were training to become shadowhunters, having lived at the Institute since they were younger. Gabriel Lightwood and his older brother Gideon sought refuge here after their father died, though Jem left out the details on that one. Will had a younger sister, Cecily Herondale, who came to the Institute last month to start training. Tessa was saved by Will from Mortmain and stayed to help capture him. Sophie was a maid hired by Charlotte, but she also trained with Tessa to serve the Institute better.

All of them sounded amazing, like literal angels out of story books. I found it quite amusing how he lost himself as he talked about everyone. They all meant a lot to him. Especially Tessa.

"Are you and Tessa close?" I asked.

"Why would you say that?" He sounded more amused than curious, like it wasn't a huge secret.

"Your voice softens when you talk about her, but it's not any of my business…"

Jem laughed and I relaxed my shoulders. I hadn't wanted to make him uncomfortable if I'd been wrong about his feelings. "No, it's fine. Tessa and I are engaged and plan to get married soon."

"Congratulations. I hope you two will be able to find true happiness when this is all over." The airy comfort in the room iced over after I finished speaking. My chest tightened in discomfort as I waited for Jem to speak. Being in his situation, I knew exactly what he was going to say, so I countered before he could get a word in. "No, don't you dare think about that."

"But I hadn't-"

"I know you were thinking it because that's what I would say if someone told me that. But you have someone who is waiting for you at the end of the road. Don't ever doubt that because some people would give anything to have someone care about them as much as you care for Tessa."

I didn't mind getting personal with Jem. Maybe my amnesia had something to do with it, but after suffering through Mortmain's capture, I honestly didn't care what people thought of me. When he watched as I choked on my own blood, waiting for me to agree to help him, I lost a part of me that cared about myself. During that time, I was indirectly living for Tessa because nobody deserved to die by Mortmain's hands.

It seemed Jem was also living for Tessa because I soon heard a small chuckle. I balled my hands into fists as Jem said, "It's rather refreshing to hear words like that come from someone other than Will."

"I take offense to that," Will's voice cut in. "The phrase you clearly meant to say was that it is always refreshing to hear Will's voice."

In my mind, I imagined Jem rolling his eyes as he got to his feet, though I didn't have to imagine him sighing under his breath. After hearing about his _parabatai,_ it was interesting to listen to the two shadowhunters interact with one another. Since I'd gotten here, it seemed as if the mood was permanently set at dreary. Having some form of amusement to take away from the negative emotions really did a wonder on the human morale.

"He really meant it in the nicest way," I put in, hoping to keep the atmosphere in the infirmary light and airy.

"Actually, it was supposed to be taken negatively. Living with him all these years has started turning me away from dark-haired Welshman," Jem chuckled.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Will muttered. He shifted on his feet as I heard a sound of something being set near the table at my bedside. "Bridget made lunch a while ago, but I guess it's dinner for you now. It's not much, but I figured you wouldn't be up for regular portions today."

It was nice to see, or rather hear, this side of Will since he'd tried to kill me the moment I woke up earlier. Hearing about Will's more pleasant side from Jem was one thing compared to experiencing it first hand. Nevertheless, I pulled myself up so my back rested against the bed frame and help out my hand, not entirely sure where the tray of food rested. Another hand met mine and gently guided it over a piece of bread.

"Thanks," I said quietly, a little embarrassed I needed help eating.

I was expecting it to be Jem's hand helping me, but his voice came from farther away when I heard him say, "I very much enjoyed speaking with you, Natalie. Have a pleasant night." A door closed a few seconds later and I found myself alone with William Herondale.

As Will said, I wasn't ready for much food, so the piece of bread Will helped me eat and a glass of water was enough before my eyes started feeling heavy. I blinked a couple times to get rid of the fatigue. It seemed all I was good for was riling people up, almost dying, and sleeping. Being with Mortmain, while uncomfortable and frightening, made me feel more useful in a way that didn't have me relying on the guards for assistance. Towards the end, I didn't need to worry about taking care of myself as I had planned on slowly dying of neglect and starvation. I was, however, grateful for Mortmain setting me free so I could experience safety in the arms of Charlotte and her Institute.

Will remained quiet as I forced the bread down, probably just as uncomfortable as I was. When he took my empty water glass from my hands, his fingers briefly grazed mine. I flinched at the contact, a little unnerved there was someone in front of me who made so little noise.

"I never apologized for this morning," he said.

I was taken aback by his words, mostly because he hadn't said anything in awhile. "You don't-"

"Clearly I do because no woman in her right mind would defend a man who almost strangled her while she lay in a sick bed." I could hear a little sarcasm between his teeth, but just like Jem, his words were laced with guilt. However, I couldn't use the same speech with Jem because Will had taken control of his actions. Those actions just happened to be a little rough around my windpipe. No, I wouldn't coddle Will like I am with Jem. Jem's guilt would tear him up inside, but Will's… I don't know Will, but he seems like the kind of person who needs to feel pain.

"Fine," I said after a moment of hesitation. "Give me an apology."

A rustle could be heard by my bed and Will took Jem's seat. He took a deep breath before saying, "For you to understand why I acted as I did, you need to know why Jem is the way he is-"

"You mean kind and humble and endearing?" I casually interrupted.

"Dying," Will said with ice in his voice. "Jem is dying."

"I know."

"But you don't know the story. His father was a shadowhunter in the Enclave and his mother was from the Shanghai Institute in China. He lived there for a good portion of his life. However, a demon wished revenge on Jem's father and one night captured his whole family. His mother and father were helpless as they watched the demon feed the powder to Jem, watched him scream and thrash as the poison worked its way into his body.

"By the time the Enclave sent shadowhunters to the Institute, Jem's parents were dead and Jem had become addicted to the powder. He was twelve when he came to London to study under Charlotte. They only thought he had a few months, maybe a year to live. So far he has proven them wrong," Will paused for a moment as he took another shaky breath. "So when I found you in the infirmary, saying you were sent by Mortmain, I believed you were another downworlder or mundane who had willingly become an addict. I had no idea you were another victim of Mortmain, and I acted on pure instinct. I truly am terribly sor-"

"I think we both know I forgave you a long time ago, William," I said. Will's story left me feeling somewhat comforted. Jem's childhood was cut down quickly by a demon, while mine was stolen from me by missing memories. We both clung to the drug that was killing us. I've found more in common with Jem thanks to Will. "You're not very good at apologizing, so I assume you haven't had the proper instruction for it. Nonetheless, thank you for telling me about Jem. It just makes you seem that much kinder." A small smile graced my lips then. I reached out my hand to find his, but he found me faster because he pushed my hand back to my lap. The smile slipped off my face in confusion.

"I am not a kind person. I only apologized because Jem insisted I do so. Do not confuse yourself about my character. Ask anyone around and they will tell you how wrong you are." He picked up the tray he brought in and walked away from my bed. I winced as I heard the door to the infirmary slam shut.

 _But why are you telling lies,_ I wondered before sleep claimed my useless eyes.

Sophie came to wake me up in the morning so I wouldn't have to keep missing meals. She helped me into a proper gown since I've been wearing a nightgown from the infirmary since I woke up. The thing was a little long, but I assumed it was from Tessa, so I loved it. Sophie said it was a beautiful shade of blue that went well with my hair. She seemed a little nervous when telling me that fact, as if she didn't know how I would react, but I thanked her for telling me. While I slept, Henry fashioned a seeing cane for me so I didn't have to be carried everywhere. Sophie told me Charlotte was a little worried for me to be walking around, but I agreed with Henry and thought the cane was brilliant. My legs were aching for some exercise.

We then left the infirmary very slowly while I got used to both walking and using the cane. Sophie helped me to the dining room and pointed out unique features to my route so I wouldn't get too lost. The dining room was less quiet than the hallway or the infirmary, so I welcomed the noise. It did get a little quieter as Sophie guided me to my seat, but I tried to ease the tension by smiling. It seemed to work because the banter resurfaced again. I jumped a bit when a teacup was set in front of me.

"Careful, it's a bit hot," Jem's voice warned me.

"Thank you," I said. Taking the teacup slowly in my hand, I raised it to my lips so I could blow away the steam. I brought it to my lips and tentatively sipped on it. A familiar taste ran down my throat. "Mmm, Camomile."

"I figured a nice cup of tea would be soothing," Jem said. I could hear a cup in his hands and figured he made me a cup while pouring himself one.

"You were right," I smiled back. It reminded me of drinking tea with Gracia all those months ago, a time where I was relaxed and happy. Having that memory with me filled me with euphoria.

"I didn't know what state you'd be in after last night. Most times Will does something foolish and the girls run away in tears or disgust. You seem to be pleasant like usual," he noted.

I shrugged my shoulders while trying to show the least amount of emotion. "He was fine. I hope he asked you before sharing your whole life story to me," I said worriedly.

Jem chuckled. "I told him to tell you so you'd know my story after we heard yours."

Setting the cup back on the table, I sighed and leaned back in my chair. "Well, after telling me your story, he started lying about different things. It was like he was trying to prove that he wasn't a kind person." My nose scrunched up as I thought about his strange behavior.

"Do you believe he is a good person?" Jem asked.

"I have no reason not to. He's treated me with kindness ever since yesterday. Isn't that how he is with everyone?"

"You really have no idea," Cecily's voice said from across from me. "Will seems to like to keep people away from him as much as possible."

"Oh," I said. "I wonder why that is."

Apparently Tessa and Will were the only ones not at the table, with Gideon and Gabriel pardoned because they had taken breakfast early. About ten minutes after I arrived with Sophie, Tessa slipped into the room and took the spot on the other side of Jem. Charlotte cleared her throat, signaling to the rest of us to be quiet. Apparently breakfast at the Institute was always accompanied by a meeting.

"The Silent Brothers informed me Jessamine will be returning tomorrow from the Silent City."

Already I heard groans from those around me, save Jem. I'm not sure Jem would ever make a noise as negative as that. From what I gathered after a lengthy discussion about Miss Jessamine, she had been a shadowhunter at the Institute before she was tricked into working for Mortmain by Nathaniel Gray before his death. She'd been kept in prison with the Silent Brothers, monks of the Silent City. Everyone seemed to dislike her, so she must have been a bad person. But why was Charlotte willing to take her back if she was a bad person? Whatever her reasons, it seemed like some weren't willing to go agree with her. After about ten minutes of noisy arguing, I felt someone's arms wrap around me and lift me from my seat. I stiffened at first, but relaxed as Jem identified himself. We left the dining room and the voices faded away.

"I'm not sure that's what you needed right now," Jem said.

Another pair of steps followed close to us. "Jessamine is not my favorite person, but she shouldn't be treated like a traitor," Tessa's voice said.

"But I thought she was a traitor," I put in.

"Yes, it may seem so, but if you really knew Jessie, you'd know she never really chooses a side," Jem said. "I think her heart was in the wrong place."

"You know Jem, I think I'm able to walk now. You can put me down if you want," I said after a moment of silence. I felt better this morning compared to yesterday, but I worried about missing another dose of medicine now that both Jem and I were out of the drug. But I was determined not to be too much of a burden to these nice people.

"If you're sure," Jem said tentatively. He lowered me down feet first and I stood on both legs.

"Put your arm on my shoulder," Tessa said, taking my hand. I draped it over her shoulder and she slowly led me down the hallway, my cane making soft _clunks_ as we continued. My legs were shaky first, but with both the cane and Tessa's steady body, I felt more comfortable moving in the dark.

"So, where are you taking me?" I asked.

"Well, you've been there before, but the circumstances were anything but pleasant," Tessa said with a visible smile on her lips. "It's my favorite room in the Institute and a nice place to relax."

That room turned out to be the library, the room I'd collapsed in just the other day. Instead of sitting down near the table, Tessa had led me towards a large couch by a window, the rays of sunlight streaming in. The warmth brought a smile to my lips as I eased down upon the soft furniture. My legs were shaking a little from the walk, but I appreciated the exercise.

"If this is your favorite room, I'm sure you are an avid reader," I said.

"Oh I just adore books," Tessa sighed. "Any story is simply magical. My favorite is _A Tale of Two Cities._ Have you read it?" The question seemed to slip out of her mouth before she could stop. I heard a small intake of breath and laughed to ease her discomfort.

"Before Mortmain, I worked at a small Inn on the other side of town near the harbor. I was the only other employee, so I didn't have a lot of time for reading. I did happen to catch the Times every day after breakfast," I said cheerily.

The tension in her shoulders seemed to disappear. "How about when you were younger?"

Without meaning to, the smile slipped from my mouth. "Well, I'm not sure what I liked."

I didn't want to make the answer seem vague and distant, but I had a hard time deciding whether or not the story about my memory loss would be appropriate at this time, what with Mortmain trying to take over London. Apparently my decision was already made for me.

"What do you mean?" Jem asked.

I sighed and tried not to look pathetic as I told the story. "I told you I was working at an Inn before. That was where I met Mr. Gray and how I came to be in Mortmain's possession. However, a few months before I met Mr. Gray, I had woken up in an alley near the harbor with no memory of how I got there. I just about starved to death before Gracia, the owner of the Inn, offered me a job in exchange for food and shelter. But other than that, I don't even know who I am save for my name. I think I had a little sister, but I'm sure she's far away from here."

I swear, every time one of them got curious about me, I ended up looking like a little kid instead of an adult. Sure I couldn't see anything, but that didn't mean I wasn't able to take care of myself. It was then that I made it my duty to start doing things for myself without relying on everyone.

While I made my declaration of self-sufficiency, Tessa's hand had found it's way into mine. I squeezed back in acknowledgement and the smile made a return to my lips. The silence following was a comfortable one, with Jem and Tessa keeping me company as I nodded off, a little tired from our trek to the library.


	4. Chapter 4

When I came to again, I did not feel Tessa's hand in mine, so I sat up, hoping to catch their attention. However, I soon realized I was alone in the library.

Taking the opportunity to explore a little, I got to my feet before setting the cane in front of me like a seeing cane. I took a few steps and swung it in front of me, feeling for any obstacles in my way. I continued this until I felt the edge hit a corner of a bookshelf. I reached out a hand to feel the spines of very old books lined up. Perhaps on instinct, I selected one at random and opened it to a random page. The small breeze tickled my face, and I started to have a suspicion I liked reading as a kid. Thumbing through the pages, the distinct smell of paper wafted up towards me. It was a little odd how soothing the smell was, but soon I was selecting any book at random and flipping through it to smell that addicting book smell.

After walking up and down in front of the shelf, I picked out a final book and tucked it under my arm before walking slowly back to the couch. There, I lowered myself back onto the furniture and placed the book on my stomach with the spine against my navel. It hurt almost physically to be unable to read the words. Before, I put off reading books because I was so busy helping Gracia. In Mortmain's prison I had other things preoccupying my mind besides reading. But now, I knew I would never be able to read a book again. You don't know the things you miss before they're taken away from you.

Wallowing in my self-pity, I took to stroking the pages of the book, hoping the story would rub off on me. Knowing it was futile, I continued anyways because the pages were soft and comforting. I didn't notice the figure behind me until he moved to sit right next to me on the couch. I jumped, visibly startled at this person's soundlessness when walking.

"I'm sorry, I didn't notice you," I quickly stammered, embarrassment surely making itself noticeable on my face.

"No, I'm sure you didn't," Will's voice drawled. "You looked very keen on stroking that book. I was tempted not to bother the two of you."

My brow furrowed at the almost harsh tone his voice took. It sounded as if he were talking with Gabriel or maybe Cecily, spitting the words out. My thoughts returned to what Cecily said this morning. _Will seems to like to keep people away from him as much as possible._ Perhaps it was this tone that turned people away from Will.

"I can see why people don't care for your presence," I said flatly.

"Oh, so the others spoke with you, did they?" Will asked in a not so surprised voice.

"Why do you sound like this?" My voice rose at the end and hit him between the eyes. I don't think I've ever raised my voice since coming here. Having this pent up anger drew a thin line, a line Will just crossed. "You were perfectly nice last night until you made your unceremonious exit. Did I say something to you?"

"First of all," he began, "my exits are never unceremonious-"

"Will," I growled. "Did I say something to you?"

He took a moment to answer my question, so I could tell he contemplated what he would tell me. To be honest, I was expecting something entirely different or an avoidance of the question in general. Instead, Will picked up the book in my lap and opened it up so I could hear the pages turning.

"It figures the book you'd choose was about demonology. Seems I can never escape my curse." His words left his lips like steam, rolling off his tongue to only evaporate into the air.

"Curse?" I asked, my voice considerably softer than before.

"Everyone in the Institute is not without their curses," Will said. "Charlotte was born a woman in a world of man. Henry was given power he couldn't wield. Sophie was scarred for her good looks. Gabriel and Gideon have to live with their father's ruined name. Cecily had to grow up without her siblings. Jem has to live a shortened life. Tessa plays a part in Mortmain's games. I am no different from them, but they are what I feared for the longest time.

"I was just a boy, naive and innocent of the Shadow World, when I released a demon from a pyxis. My older sister, Ella, saved me that day, but not before the demon put a curse on me and told me anyone who loves me will die, starting with Ella. The next day Ella was dead in her bed and my mother was weeping over her mutated body. I decided then that I would train to kill that demon. I came to the Institute and renounced my affiliation with my father, a Shadowhunter who left the Clave. I kept everyone at arm's length because I didn't want anyone to die like Ella. I only cared for Jem, who was dying already. He was my sin. I lived like that for five years, treating myself like poison. Only recently did I find out the curse was fake. Old habits die hard."

Being blind did not hinder the tears that escaped my closed eyes. Will's voice carried his burden with him, a pain that couldn't be shared with anyone. After hearing both Will and Jem's stories, I couldn't help wondering how Shadowhunters did it. How could these angelic creatures love so truly like that? How could they live their lives without just burning up? Sensing Will in front of me, I reached for his hand and clung to it, silent sobs sending shivers down my back.

Will stiffened in my arms, then let out a throaty chuckle, as if he'd been caught in some awful joke. "To answer your question, yes, it was something you said."

Gaining control of my hiccups and tears, I pried my arms from his hand. _Why did I reach out for him?_ I wondered. "Did I remind you of your curse?"

"No, you reminded me of my sin."

"Jem?"

"Not of him specifically, but your eyes… they can see things overlooked by any normal person. You could penetrate my shield like it didn't exist. In the mere hours after we met, you came so close to knowing, and I panicked before reverting back to my old self. I forgot I don't have to hide anymore."

Will mentioned my eyes and the power they had over him. Before, I kept my eyes closed because I wanted to hide. It would be like I was sleeping. Opening them reminded me that I had changed. But now I knew my useless eyes held a sight Will suffered from. Breaking the seals, I attempted to lift the shades covering my sight. I struggled at first with this new weight I had to carry, and the blackness still greeted me even though I knew I had opened my eyes for the first time since Mortmain. I remembered my hair turned a translucent silver color before I left, so I painted that into my vision.

"You never have to hide from me, Will," I breathed. A weightless sensation filled my stomach as I appeared to float around. My heart hammered a beat I could not follow as it changed tempo to match the tidal wave of feelings assaulting me. What was this feeling? I was dying, there could be no other explanation.

Fingers brushed past my cheeks and made trails down my face. I could feel Will's gaze looking at me, taking in the addition of my battered eyes. All this attention made me uneasy and self-conscious. I tried to close them again, but Will's hands told me to stop.

"You look better with them open," he said softly.

I smirked and pulled his hand away from my face. "I look dead."

He laughed too, and the uncomfortable quiet around us broke with every shake of his voice. "What color were they?"

I thought back to my days with Gracia. "Brown. My hair was a dark brown too. Thinking back, I remember hating my eyes. They were so boring…" I paused. "Dark humor, I know, but now I can say I at least don't look so ordinary."

"I don't think ordinary would be the word to use," Will said.

"Will? What do you look like?"

He took a deep breath. "Cecily and I got my mother's blue eyes. She used to tell us the color reminded her of the lake back home in Wales. When I got to London, the rivers here only looked grey and dirty. My father gave me his black hair. The color matched the dark runes we draw on our body. Cecily will tell you I look like a ghost because the sun isn't too forgiving to London, though I never really noticed the color of my skin. It was always hidden under gear or blood or runes…"

He seemed to know exactly what I wanted as I started painting a picture of Will in my head. I could see his blue eyes shining brightly through his dark hair, though I'm not sure the length. A smile spread across my face.

"... Jem used to tell me my terribly good looks get me into trouble and inflate my ego. Frankly, I have no idea what he is talking about."

"Will," I breathed. "You are beautiful." I could've used a better word to describe him, but nothing could express my feelings better. And I wasn't only talking about his looks. His soul seemed to shine brightly above the others.

I could sense his body move closer to mine. A fabric, probably a handkerchief, brushed against my cheeks to wipe away my half-dried tears. I knew I was pathetic then, crying over the tiniest things. I could only imagine what he was thinking then.

He didn't say a word for a while, allowing me to regain my composure. I expected a sarcastic remark or a helping word, something, but he didn't speak. From somewhere in front of me, a clock chimed four. As if on cue, he rose to his feet.

"Sophie is probably setting the table now. We should go." His voice wasn't vulnerable or soft. But it wasn't like last night. I took that to be a good thing.

I nodded and felt around for my cane. Will helped me up as well, though I felt my eyes closing. It seemed like they would only be between me and Will. And also perhaps Jem and Tessa. He guided me down the vast hallways until we came to the dining room, where voices rang out. As opposed to yesterday, the volume remained high even as I entered the room.

"I don't care what the consul says, I won't leave her there," Charlotte sighed. "Report all you want back to him, but I am not sending Jessamine away now."

"It seems this consul guy is harping on you because you're the one threatening his position," Cecily pointed out. "I wouldn't listen to a thing he says."

"You've only been here a month. You don't know how much power he holds over the entire council or Enclave," Gabriel retorted.

It seemed things among the Shadowhunters weren't as collected as it appeared. Will helped me find a seat and alerted me to where the food was. He moved off, but I felt another pair of hands helping me serve myself.

"We thought it would be best to let you rest in the Library," Jem's voice said.

I smiled. "Thank you. It probably was just what I needed seeing I'll have to manage without the _yin fen._ "

"We were going to come collect you for supper," Tessa said to my right, "but it seems Will already took care of that." By her tone, I'd say she sounded suspicious.

"He found me in the Library," I answered, glad Tessa diverted the conversation.

Dinner remained a normal event. Talk soon shifted from Jessamine and the consul to trivial things like training and demons. It was great to sit with them and hear the routine in their lives. I was glad that my presence didn't disrupt their time together.

But that peace didn't last long as towards the end of dinner I started to feel a tightness grow in my chest. I leaned back in my chair hoping a change in position would help me. The tightness grew until I struggled to breath.

"Natalie!" someone shouted. Chairs screeched across the hard floor as multiple people flew to my aid. It was all I could do to claw at my chest. Arms suddenly wove around me and lifted me out of my chair. I couldn't tell who. My hearing was slowly starting to fade as the lack of oxygen reached my brain. I was fading, slowly, slowly…

Will burst into the Infirmary and laid her down on the nearest bed. The others weren't far behind him, with Jem coming close second. Will's face was a mask of clay, with only slight hints in his eyes at his pain. Jem was the only one to notice it, though he said nothing about it. Natalie's skin was starting to turn purple as the drug shut down her respiratory system.

"She's dying!" Charlotte exclaimed.

"Jem, are you-" Will began.

"There's nothing left. I checked around, but it's all gone."

"There has to be something," Tessa pleaded. "Some herb or rune-"

"She's a mundie, the mark will kill her."

"But it might be better than doing nothing at all," Tessa retorted.

"People burn when they are marked," Will hissed at her. He paled, eyes widening a fraction of a second. Jem and Tessa noticed it too, the bite in Will's voice. For Tessa, it was the Will from the attic, with holy water dripping down his face. Somehow, this girl had gotten to Will. But…

"Her pulse is slowing," Henry said, fingers against Natalie's throat. She had stopped thrashing and was now as still as death. Almost.

"Then there's still time," a voice said from the doorway.

Will's eyes narrowed. "Magnus? Why are you here?"

"It's called public service," Magnus said. "I do recall I seem to be doing a lot of it."

"You can help her?" Charlotte asked.

"It's temporary, but it should resume her breathing." Purple sparks danced from his fingers as he moved closer to the infirmary bed. "I need room. Everyone leave."


	5. Chapter 5

Again, after I had come to terms with my death, I was pulled right back. But, something was wrong. I lifted my head up and opened my eyes. Light pierced my vision as I sat up, making me wince with a different kind of pain I hadn't felt for a long time. Colors danced across my eyes, ranging from vibrant blues to subtle whites.

I pulled myself up into a sitting position, feeling and seeing the soft hospital sheets move down my arms. My pale, thin-as-twigs arms. Though my head ached from the light, I laughed. A good, hardy laugh that came from my throat. And I kept laughing, not caring if anyone passing by the infirmary would hear my obnoxious voice. I let my once useless eyes roam around the room, taking in the standard white beds that lined the wall. A large, stained glass window let the southern light in on the south wall, turning the white walls into a kaleidoscope of color, color I honestly had no hope of seeing ever again. I had to find someone, anyone, who-

My thoughts drifted back to my last memory. I had stopped breathing during dinner. Someone had put their arms around me and most likely carried me here. Will?

"Will-" I start to say as realization dawned on me, but an unseen force stopped me. My body tensed up as if my heart had been grabbed by something. Tense muscles turning rigid and shaky, I realized I was no longer in control of my movements. Unlike my fits, I felt no pressure or burning in my throat. This was something entirely different.

With slow, jerky movements, the force took hold of my legs and swung them out of bed and onto the hard floor, standing almost immediately after my feet brushed against the cold tiled floor. Instead of wobbling around on unsteady appendages, I remained strong and solid. And then I was leaving through the door to my left, which I assumed would lead me back to the main corridor of the Institute.

Frightened, yet awestruck by the beauty around me, I could only swivel my eyes around to try to catch all the sights before I moved on. My movements began to smooth out and, to any onlooker, I would appear to be walking normally. But only I knew of the internal battle raging on inside of my body, my will trying to stop my legs from pushing on. When I stopped in front of an open doorway, my first thought had been that I'd gained control back over my body. However, I just turned and passed through the entryway of the door. Long tables filled with weapons greeted me and I guessed this was the weapon's room Jem had told me about. On the first table lay a large, sharp sword seemed to draw me to it. The blade felt heavy in my hand, but even I knew I wouldn't have been able to pick up the sword on my own. Somehow, whatever possessed me had altered my body, allowing me to do things I couldn't on my own.

I left the weapon's room with the sword in hand, and a strange feeling washed over me. I felt anger, hatred, agony, guilt, joy, and sadness. It tore at my insides and I managed to shut my eyes to block out all other input. With all my willpower, I kept my eyes closed, yet my legs continued to guide me somewhere. It was pulling me to a specific destination, I could feel it. But, judging from the blade in my hand, I knew I wouldn't like it at all.

A few minutes passed before I started to hear new noise, the faint murmurs of human life. I opened my eyes to see a grand entrance, with the wooden doors cast open as if someone had left in a hurry. I crept closer to the door, tensing up again as I knew there would be someone on the other side. The sunlight ghosted over my pale skin and I almost flinched at the temperature difference.

Outside, I saw a large group of people with their backs to me, their attention on the carriage approaching their position. Intuition told me these were the people I'd spent the last couple days with, but none of them looked familiar. And it killed me. I gazed at their backs for a minute before I caught sight of a head of silver, dressed in a nice suit with a walking cane at his side.

 _Jem._ There was the dying boy who held the same fate as me. Tears threatened to gather in my eyes, but I willed them away.

Right next to him, I saw a head of midnight black, with wisps of longer hair curling up around his face. William Herondale stood a few inches above Jem, his broad shoulders instantly capturing my attention. I had not been wrong when I had said Will was beautiful, and I could only imagine what his face looked like.

I was moving forward then, and only when I raised the sword up did I realize what I was doing. I begged, pleaded inside my mind for whoever was controlling my body to let me go, to not condemn these people to death. I could care less about me, but not Jem, or Charlotte, or Tessa. And most of all, not Will.

My footsteps ceased to make a sound as I approached the group. They wouldn't hear me coming. I had to stop this, do something to make them notice me. Perhaps they would see me as an intruder, an enemy behind lines and kill me without hesitation. In all honesty, I didn't care. Mortmain had given me plenty of almost deaths, enough so that I didn't even fear the beyond. And right now, I'd gladly take a death by these Shadowhunter's hands if it meant they could live another day. I would not give in.

But it appeared that I had little choice in the matter, as I inched closer to the group. The carriage and stopped 10 feet from the procession and I saw a great hooded figure descend from the top of the carriage. Darkness fell beneath the hood, so I couldn't lock eyes with the driver. I just had to hope he'd see me and warn the others of my actions. But the figure only moved to the door of the carriage. A long, slender hand extended from the long, parchment robe and grasped the handle of the door.

Almost immediately, other figures burst from the carriage in a rush of energy. The man I was closest to, with wavy blonde hair, sprung away from the carriage, right into the path of my sword. As the weapon swung down to meet him, I tried to cry out and warn him away. He only saw me as the sword cut into his shoulder, sinking deep into his flesh. Tears I had been blinking away poured out of my eyes as I saw his meet mine in a flurry of pain and confusion.

"Gideon!" Sophie shrieked to my right, and I saw her for the first time. And she was gawking at me in true terror. But her attention on me only lasted a second before she dove to my feet to try to stop the man, Gideon, from bleeding out.

I turned away from them, wanting to shout and scream. No sound escaped my closed lips, so I sent a silent prayer to whatever god or angel was listening to let Gideon live. I locked eyes on my next target: a girl with long, curly brown hair. She was clutching a dagger and seemed to be fighting off a machine. I only said machine because half of its face was gone, replaced by gears and turning rods. This was an automaton, a clockwork creature created by Mortmain to attack the Shadowhunters of the London Institute. And by the way they were moving around, I knew was somehow part of their attack.

The second carriage burst into flames and I could hear Charlotte yell for Jessamine before screaming, "Henry!" I couldn't look to see if either of them were okay. Like Gideon, I prayed for their safety.

The girl with the dagger had fought off the last automaton, and I noticed a large, hag like figure approach her next. This wasn't a clockwork device. The talons screamed warlock. If this girl had a warlock fighting her, she could be only one person: Tessa Gray.

A shadow blocked my view of Tessa and my arms automatically threw themselves up to protect myself from the attacker. Black hair filled my vision and I stiffened, this time of my own accord.

A handsome boy. Will Herondale. Pale skin and high cheekbones. The bluest eyes. And they were filled with pain and anger, directed at me.

"Who are you?" he snarled.

My eyes widen and the tear tracks on my face run cold with ice. _He doesn't think I'm me,_ I thought. _Or, at least, he believes me to be a traitor._ More than anything, I want my first glimpse of Will to be full of happiness and passion, not hatred.

My only external answer to him is to thrust my sword at him. With lightning reflexes, he dodges the attack and parries with one of his own. I move with grace and swiftness I never knew I possessed. But I try to ground my arms, hold back my legs so I can stop attacking him. But I only move faster.

Blood dripped to the ground. Was it mine or Will's? Will's. The sword had nicked his cheek, giving him a shallow cut along the side of his face. My stomach dropped at the sight of the dark, red liquid flowing from Will.

Stop.

Will's grip tightened around his seraph blade.

Stop.

His eyes narrowed as he lurched forward for a straight on attack.

STOP!

The blade plunged into my stomach. Blood forced its way out of my mouth and trailed down my face in twin lines. On instinct, I sank to my knees, but I felt no pain. My hands, shaking, dropped the sword. It clattered to my side. I looked down and saw the blossom of red soak the blue gown I wore. The golden handle protruded from a spot just left of my navel, lodged between my ribs. All the weariness I felt before I awoke in the infirmary returned to my body.

"Thank God," I muttered. I'm not sure what it was I was thanking God for, but I knew at least some of my pleads had been heard. I was in control again. I hadn't killed Will. He stopped me. I could die now.

"By the Angel," Will whispered.

I looked up, grunting a little as I felt the blade press against my ribs and restricting my movements. Still, I didn't feel any was standing above me, eyes wide with shock and lips slack. Then I had to look back down, the pressure in my side turning from restricting to uncomfortable.

"Stay away, Will," I said.

"What the hell is going on…"

"You can't trust me," I warned. "Something's wrong, something else…" But I couldn't finish as a wave of coughing forced excess blood from my throat. I fell to my side and curled my body around the seraph blade.

Will ignored my earlier warning and was at my side in an instant. His hands gently placed my head onto the ground and it looked as if he were now worried or possibly sad. There was no more fire dancing in his eyes.

"I was trapped, I couldn't move or speak-some sort of spell." My words were coming out labored and fast. The numb feeling in my stomach was starting to spread. I didn't have much time left. "L-leave me here. Save Tess... she d-doesn't deserve…" Soon. I was leaving.

Will took a moment to process my words. Then, without warning, he was tearing off a piece of his shirt. In quick, precise movements, the seraph blade was ripped from my body and the wound was wrapped in white cloth. The cloth swiftly turned red with my blood, and Will's hands, which were providing pressure, glistened in the sun. "I will not leave you," he growled.

At first, I detected malice in his words. But the hurt in his eyes told another story. "...sorry…" I whispered. He just shook his head. With the last remaining strength I could muster, I raised my arm up to his face, my hand cupping his cheek. My thumb glossed over a single tear falling from his eyes. "I…" and then I was gone. Black seeped into my newly gained vision before my hand could hit the ground.


	6. Chapter 6

Her lifeless eyes stared up at Will. And just as it had taken a moment to process impaling her on his seraph blade, he realized that her eyes were looking at him. Though they remained pale gray and damaged, much like Jem's, their dark pupils bore into his own eyes with far too much precision for a blind person. His stomach clenched as he realized whatever spell she'd been under had managed to restore her eyesight.

The first time she looked at him he'd glared at her with anger before driving a knife into her body.

He removed his hands from her stomach, and couldn't look away from the crimson stain now covering them. Her blood. Quickly, he tried to rub it off on his torn gear, but his efforts were futile.

He could hear the battle raging on around him, and he took one last look at the dead girl he'd grown to care about before he rose to his feet and joined the battle.

An automaton cut across his path, but Will's blade had already severed the machine's head. The next automaton faced the same fate. And the next. And the next. When he felled ten machines, his eyes drifted towards the carriages, where a wounded Jessamine fell to her knees under the blows of a large automaton. Just like his brethren, he too fell to Will's swift movements and cuts. He crouched near Jessamine and pulled her on her back to get a look at her wounds. He had to stop himself from gasping, and instead only closed his eyes briefly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Hush, Jessie," Will said gently. "This was not your fault."

"I have acted like a spoiled little girl, yelled at Sophie, and said terrible things to Charlotte and Tessa. I've betrayed my family…" Her breathing was shallow, and he knew she didn't have much time left.

"You did well today," he said.

"Mortmain is in Idris, your Idris," Jessie said quickly. "That's where he's taking… and the other...Oh, Will." And she died there in Will's arms.

He sack back on his heels then, and wallowed in the feeling of helplessness growing in his chest.

Rising again, he looked around the Institute grounds and saw that the battle was over. Broken machines littered the grounds, and he could see the other Shadowhunters of the Institute either walking around or tending to the injured. Except-

 _Jem_

His head whirled around until he spotted Jem walking back through the open gates of the Institute, covered in blood. He ran then, to his friend, and managed to catch Jem before he collapsed on the ground.

His body heaved with heavy breathing, and Will's eyes widened as he realized how tired Jem looked.

"They have her," he gasped. "They took Tessa." And then his body sagged as Jem fell into unconscious sleep.

My eyes opened slowly, which confused me, as I expected the afterlife to be less corporeal and more spiritual. But the discomfort in my limbs and the sharp chill in the air tell me I had not died on the front lawn of the Institute.

My body, though a little stiff, moved much more gracefully than before my supposed death, and this seemed odd. The next thing I noticed was that I could still see. While under the control of the spell, I had thought the eyesight was just a temporary side effect, and when I broke free of that control and looked up into Will Herondale's eyes, I considered it my last gift. But now, my eyes blinked once, then twice, and the sight of a rocky ceiling held strong.

Sitting up, I immediately noticed a third thing. This was not my body. Having lived in it for months (and potentially years as I couldn't remember that far back) I had gotten used to the feeling and shape of it. But now, with my hands splayed in front of me, I couldn't recognize myself. Pale, long fingers. Equally white arms. There was nothing of the drug in my features, as if Mortmain's imprisonment had never happened. And even before I'd been subjected to his torture, my skin took on a more tan color as the Inn near the docks had been bathed in sunlight often.

The clothes I wore were just as unfamiliar. The gown I had been wearing, drenched in my blood was gone, replaced by black clothing resembling the Shadowhunter gear.

"I see you've awakened, my dear," a cool voice said.

I spun around to see Axel Mortmain standing at the entrance to the cave I resided in. He looked just as vile as I remembered him. "Where am I?" I snarnled.

Mortmain chose to ignore my question and strolled through the doorway and approached me with two automatons flanking him. His demeanor looked as if he were greeting an old friend, and he opened his arms out as if expecting a gracious greeting. "You've returned home."

A retort flooded my tongue, and I was about to fire back with an equally preposterous comeback, but it died on my lips just as quickly as it had come. I did not know where home was. For the past few days, home had been the Institute. And before that, the prison and the Inn. Did he mean one of those places? My body tensed as I thought back to that cold, dark cave. And the demon that had fed me the poison.

"Not the Dark Sister's house, I assure you," he said calmly, as if reading my thoughts. "Haven't you ever wondered why it was you that I sent Mr. Gray after? Did your curious case of amnesia seem at all inconvenient?" He drew closer to me as he spoke, and when his hand brushed against my shoulder, I shuddered.

"No," I whispered as realization dawned on me.

He smirked. "Yes. You were under my control since the beginning. I fashioned Ms. Gray as my salvation, but you were my sword I'd use to cut down my enemies."

My heart dropped into my stomach as I thought of Will's eyes swimming with hatred. I remember hearing Charlotte's cries for her husband and Jem's ghostly figure. I had only caused trouble for the Shadowhunters of the Institute. And all the while, Mortmain had some sort of roll in this. I had previously only considered myself as a symbol to the Shadowhunters, that Mortmain was cutting off Jem's access to the _yin fen_ as a way to swade their morals. But now…

"You created me?" I asked. "And Tessa?"

"She was an experiment of mine, combining Shadowhunter and demon blood to create an entirely new breed. But you were a dream of mine, ever since my parents were murdered." His eyes narrowed then. "I sought revenge against the Shadowhunters, and with your help, I made progress on that plan. But how could a mere mortal bring an entire race of half-angels to their knees? The answer came to me easily: you take them down from the inside."

My hands balled into fists at my side and a growl threatened to spill from my lips. "Isn't that why you manipulated Mr. Gray? What more could I do?" I spat out. Whatever fear I held before burned into a fiery inferno.

Mortmain had the audacity to chuckle. "Nathaniel Gray was only a pawn in my scheme. I needed a way to get information, and his relationship with Ms. Lovelace proved very useful. But information alone would not be enough to stop the Shadowhunters. Not when there were people like William Herondale in the enclave. I needed more."

"What did you do?"

"At first, I intended for Ms. Gray to charm Mr. Herondale, but after I heard about her engagement to Mr. Carstairs, I altered my plans. You would be the one to bring Mr. Herondale to his knees. If I altered your memories, and presented you as a young, attractive woman afflicted with the same disease as his parabatai, well…" He trailed off, but the smirk never left his face.

I looked at my feet, clothed in black, and completely unfamiliar. A question formed in my mind as my mind jumped to a hundred different conclusions, none of them good. "What am I?"

"You grew up in a small town outside of London with your parents and your younger sister. As far as I know, you were a mundane-"

"Were?" The fire in my chest died down into smoldering embers as a chill swept across my body. "I am not anymore?"

"Warlock magic is a curious thing," Mortmain continued. "With the Dark Sister's help, I managed to separate your soul from your body and place you in another's."

My eyes drifted down to my arms and trailed along the pale skin and lanky appendages. "Whose body is this?" I asked.

Mortmain regarded me with a cool indifference, as if the body I was currently inhabiting seemed like trivial information at best. "What does it matter now? It belongs to you now."

"How can you say that?" I gasped. "How could a person be so vile and self-centered?"

"My thoughts and actions shouldn't come as a surprise to you, my dear. From what I have just told you, the answer should be clear. I was not born evil, but forged by the ashes of my parents and by the hands of the Shadowhunters. And after the battle today, their morals should be flickering out. I should thank you for bringing the mightiest angels to their knees."

Rooted to the spot, I watched as Mortmain regarded me for a brief second before striding out the door, followed closely by his automaton guards.

Before he vanished from sight, I called out, "What was my name?"

I expected him to continue walking away, but he stopped mid-step and looked back at me. "Natalie Adair Wells." And then he was gone, and I was alone.

Will leaned back in the chair and watched Jem's chest rise and fall with every shaky breath he drew. Even after years of living with him, it still hurt Will to see his brother in such a state. After Jem had run back to the Institute and shouted that the Dark Sisters had Tessa, he'd fallen into an unconscious sleep. Magnus assured Will that Jem was stable, but even Magnus couldn't hide the truth from Will. Jem was dying.

Of course, Jem had always been dying, but Will always played it off as something he would deal with later. Jem's prospects were looking good, and after his engagement with Tessa, Will was certain he'd never seen his friend more happy. And Will had been willing to give up his feelings for Tessa if it meant Jem was happy. But Mortmain's strive for power would not be stopped so Jem and Tessa could get married. Instead, he sent _her_ to them and threw all of their plans out of order. In the span of a few days, she had shaken Will to his very core and had managed to worm her way into almost everyone's hearts. Even Gabriel cared, not that he would let anyone, especially Will, know.

He thought back to their time in the library. He'd been looking to escape training with the Lightwoods, and found himself watching her sit amongst the books with nothing to do but stroke them. She looked so sad and defeated, and Will started to feel something, something that had been growing since their first night together. The night where they talked about Jem. And in the library he once again felt himself opening up to her about himself. He'd only ever told Magnus and Tessa about his curse. Perhaps she was the representation of his two loves; Her body held a representation of Jem while her mind reminded him so much of Tessa.

But when she opened her eyes to him, and he'd seen the white irises and scarred pupils, he knew she was someone entirely different. Someone who'd suffered under Mortmain's reign just as much as they had.

So when he'd seen her wielding that knife and attacking his fellow brethren, his mind could not process what his eyes were telling him. He acted on instinct then, and his sword swung of its own accord, and the way she parried his attacks told him that she was no friend of theirs.

"Who are you?" he had snarled at her, pushing as much venom into his voice as possible.

But she had not been a spy, not an intentional one, at least, for when he'd ultimately delivered the final blow, she did not struggle.

"Thank God," she'd said, and collapsed into his arms.

He'd cried then, because, in a way, the curse had come back. To love is to destroy, and seeing her there, lying dead in his arms, eyes staring up at him… it had its effect on him. Months after he'd come to grips about Tessa's true feelings, he was once again shattered. And the one person he wished to talk to was dying.

After Jessie died, and they'd brought Jem in with the other injured, Will had gone back to look for her body. He had been the one to bring her down, the very least he could do for her was bury properly, perhaps near Thomas and Agatha. But when he stepped out of the Institute's doors, the courtyard was empty of all evidence of the previous battle. All the automatons had vanished along with her body.

Will knew he had to do something for the anger within him threatened to burst out. He needed to go after Mortmain and return Tessa to his brother. To avenge _her_ death.

But, as he looked down at Jem, he knew he wouldn't be able to leave his bedside. With Jem's life hanging in the balance, there was no telling when Jem would breathe his last breath. Perhaps he had days left. Maybe only hours. No matter the time, Will knew he wouldn't-couldn't- leave. And it began to eat away at him.

He leaned forward and brought his legs to his chest as a few silent sobs wracked his body.

"Go," a soft voice croaked.

Pulled away from his pitiful cries, Will sprang from his chair and knelt at Jem's head. Though his eyes remained closed, Will could tell Jem was very much awake.

"You need to rest," he said softly.

At this, Jem opened his eyes, though only a bit, and considered Will. "Go after him, William. Bring Tess back."

Will shook his head. "I will not leave you."

"I was not asking, Will. The only thing you can do for me is to ensure the safety of my fiance."

The door to Jem's room opened, and Magnus walked in. He didn't seem surprised to see Jem awake, but he did raise an eyebrow at Will's form hovering over Jem.

"You're still here?" he asked. "I expected you to be gone by now."

"What is it with you bloody people wanting me gone," Will spat. "We don't even know where he's taken her, they could be…" But Will broke off as he remembered. "Jessie said they were in Idris."

Magnus snorted. "And you believe the word of a proven traitor?"

"No, Jessie may have betrayed us once, but she wouldn't lie now. Not after Nathaniel's death. She knew, and she said Idris. But… there was something else. She said it was _my_ Idris," Will said.

"Do you happen to own a plot of land?" Magnus drawled.

"Will," Jem breathed. "Home."

And Will understood Jessamine's words then. Mortmain had taken Tessa to the one place Will would never consider. "Cadair Idris."

"Go home, Will," Jem said.

Will looked into Jem's tired eyes, and he knew he couldn't refuse Jem's wish. And though he knew this was probably the last time he would probably see Jem's eyes, he could not bear say those words he'd been preparing to say for five years.

Instead, he nodded his head and charged out of the room, hoping and praying that Jem would somehow manage to live long enough to say goodbye to Tessa.

When Will had left the room, Magnus turned back to Jem's bedside.

"You did not just come to convince Will to leave," Jem observed.

Magnus sat down in Will's vacated chair and shook his head. "Quite right," he said.

"How are the others," Jem asked.

"Gideon was lucky, the cut was shallow. Mr. Branwell, on the other hand will most likely never walk again."

Jem took the news with a calm manner, nodding his head as if the news were of a paper cut Henry had received in his workshop. But, Magnus guessed, Jem was considering the positive side of the situation.

"There is something you are not telling me," Jem stated.

 _Right again,_ Magnus thought. "Mrs. Branwell had called me in earlier today to help stabilize your little refugee's condition. Charlotte had been very cryptic about the situation, so I was shocked to find another like you. Like you, I tried my best to keep her alive, but I discovered something odd…"

"And?" Jem pressed.

"Needless to say, when her conditioned improved, I left to get a consultation, if you will. However, when I returned and found you all in conditions worse for wear, my suspicions were confirmed. Your guest was not who she appeared to be," Magnus said. He was standing then, not really finding any comfort telling Jem while remaining still.

"You believe she is a traitor?" Jem asked, voice rising just a bit.

Magnus shook his head. "I do not have to think. From Ms. Collin's testimony, she has proven herself to be a traitor, an unfortunate pattern this Institute is consistently following, I might add. According to her, your guest attacked Gideon Lightwood before confronting Will in battle."

"This cannot be right," Jem whispered.

"To the Enclave, proof is proof. I have lived long enough to know that Shadowhunter rarely believe things they cannot see, but Ms. Collin's words would be enough to warrant their interest. They are already out for Mortmain's blood. She could very well be caught in the crossfire."

Jem took a shaky breath as he tried to sort through his racing mind. In the center of it all, his mind thought to Will. _Had he known about her?_

"Thank you for telling me, Magnus," Jem said once his mind had quieted down. "I suggest you give this information to Charlotte."

Magnus seemed to consider Jem's words, but stood nonetheless. "I shall leave you to your rest."

Jem seemed to consider something, then, and Magnus paused in his tracks. "Could you also tell Charlotte something for me?"

Confused, Magnus nodded.

"Tell her I request an audience with a member of the Silent Brothers."


End file.
